


Love in Lancaster County

by MaxBetta



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Amish AU, F/M, Pennsylvania Dutch AU, sansan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-28 18:16:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16247159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxBetta/pseuds/MaxBetta
Summary: Sansa Stark lives alone on a farm in the middle of a sprawling Amish community. Things get interesting when her farmhand, Sandor Clegane, entrusts her with a secret.





	1. Chapter 1

Sansa shuffled quickly down the small dirt road, balancing a loaf of cinnamon sugar bread in one hand and a bag that contained all of her quilting supplies in the other. Days when she left the house were hard on her. She walked everywhere that she needed to go because she didn’t own a buggy. The one that her family had owned was destroyed in the accident that killed both of her parents in one afternoon five years ago. They were rear-ended by a gasoline truck out on the highway. It had happened in an instant, but that one event changed everyone in her family for years to come. Arya left the community during the tradition of rumspringa and decided that she never wanted to come back. Robb left the Amish and married an “English” woman he had met while living in Philadelphia. Bran and Rickon were still in the faith, but they had met girls who lived in other communities and they moved away to marry them.

 

Sansa lived alone in a large house, on a large farm. Her only daily interaction was with Sandor, the man who her father had hired to work on their land about a year before his death. He was the hardest working person she’d ever seen. He’d show up before sunrise, work in the fields all day, and then leave at sundown. They didn’t speak much, but when they did, it was pleasant.

 

Sansa arrived at her neighbor’s house for the community's weekly quilting social and was welcomed in graciously. The ladies sat around, their chairs forming a circle, so that they could chit chat as they worked on their current project. Without fail, one of the women would bring up the fact that Sansa was still single, and that night was no exception.

 

“Sansa, dear, are you not interested in courting any of the single men? You’re such a lovely girl, surely one of them must appeal to you.” Sadie was the biggest gossip Sansa had ever known. If she wanted information, she had a way of getting it.

 

Sansa bit her tongue for the most part, giving a simple, “No, mam.”

 

That night, the ladies also began to chime in about their thoughts of Sandor.

 

Sadie started it, of course. “What of that Sandor Clegane fellow? You never see him with a young woman. I don’t think he’s gone courting even once.”

 

“It’s likely his face, such a shame,” Becca added.

 

“That personality isn’t doing him any favors, either.”

 

“Maybe if he wasn’t so unpleasant.”

 

“Yes, would it kill him to smile on occasion?”

 

Sansa had heard enough. She decided to give her thoughts on the matter as well. “Perhaps he is only misunderstood.”

 

The rest of the group looked at her and then at one another. Eventually they moved on to a new topic, which was a relief to Sansa. She was the type who always looked for the best in people, and it seemed that most of the other women in their old order community took joy in looking for the worst. When a couple hours had passed and all of the baked goods had been eaten up, the ladies said their goodbyes and Sansa once again walked the long dirt road home. It was tiring at times, and especially awful when it rained, but for the most part she enjoyed the fresh air.

 

The following morning, Sansa awoke while it was still dark and began working on breakfast. She usually fed Sandor before he would start working out in the fields. This morning they would have coffee soup, fried eggs, apple fritters, and country ham. They ate together in silence, then Sandor would always excuse himself and get to work.

 

Around noontime, Sansa would bring a basket of lunch out to him. Usually lemonade and an assortment of sandwiches and cookies. She decided that she would try making conversation with him today. She handed him the basket of food and he nodded in thanks.

 

“I’ll be eating supper on the back porch later, at sundown, if you’d like to join me.”

 

Sandor wiped the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief and answered without actually looking at her. “I suppose I could.”

 

Sansa smiled and went back inside. Perhaps having their evening meal together would help him open up a bit.

 

When sunset was near, Sansa set the outdoor table with plates and flatware. She’d cooked them a pot roast with potatoes and carrots, gravy made from the drippings, and one of her famous Schnitz pies for dessert. When it was time, Sandor came and sat down, setting his hat on the table. He seemed relieved to be done working for the day. He stretched his long, muscular arms and then began fixing himself a plate of food. He ate with the appetite of three men, something Sansa had always found amusing. When he was about halfway through, she decided to start making conversation.

 

“It was a lovely day out today. Seems that you got quite a bit done.”

 

He grumbled between bites. “I suppose so.”

 

“From the looks of it, you may finish the North section tomorrow.”

 

“Perhaps.”

 

It was their usual back and forth of shallow pleasantries. Something inside of Sansa needed more. Hearing those ladies talking about Sandor like he was some sort of freak bothered her. Maybe if she knew how he had been injured, she could understand him more.

 

“Sandor, I hope that I do not anger you by asking this, but how were you burned?”

 

She had taken him by surprise. He set his fork down and wiped at his mouth, then he looked her in the eyes and started talking.

 

“A few years back, I beat my brother Gregor at a game of checkers. He was drunk, as he usually was. He got so mad about losing that he ran out to the barn to my favorite horse, Stranger. Before I could stop him, he slit his throat, right in front of me. We started fighting. Somehow in the mess of it all, an oil lamp was knocked over. Within seconds, the barn was going up in flames. Gregor passed out on the hay. One by one, I rescued all of the horses, but I was burned as I was leading the last one out.”

 

Sansa was in shock. She had heard about his brother dying in the fire, it must have been terribly traumatic for him. “Oh. Oh Sandor, I am so sorry. You were not able to save your brother?”

 

He cleared his throat. “I could have. I chose not to.”

 

Sansa gasped. She had never seen this dark, serious side of him before. He continued.

 

“Do you remember a long time ago when livestock would go missing and the bodies would be found later, skinned and gutted?  That was Gregor. He would come home, drunk and stinking of animal, covered in blood. He thought it was fun. He said he liked hearing them scream as he did it. That was my brother. My father knew, but he covered it up, started a rumor that it was someone else.”

 

Sansa nodded. She now understood why he walked away from his brother. She'd heard about the animals disappearing. Talk around the community was that it was the English who were sneaking in at night and doing it. 

 

“I’ve never told anyone else what really happened that night. People are afraid of me.”

 

“I’m not afraid of you.” The words came out of Sansa’s mouth quickly, but they were true.

 

He took one last sip of water, then stood and placed his hat on his head. “I must be going now. There’s much plowing to be done in the morning. I’ll need to be up long before sunrise.” He nodded one last time, and left. Sansa was dumbfounded. Of all of the people in their community, she was the only one who knew the truth. He was not a monster. The rest of the week continued as usual, Sandor working during daylight hours, and the two of them having minimal conversation.

 

A few days later, Sansa walked into town to make her weekly call to Robb from a payphone at the grocery store. They were finishing up their talk when he changed the subject to something that took her completely by surprise.

 

“Oh, and you’ll be happy to know that I said yes.” He was smiling on the other end of the phone, she could tell.

 

“About what?”

 

“Clegane, of course.”

 

“Sandor? What was there to say yes about?”

 

“Surely you must have known. A couple of days ago he showed up here early in the morning on his buggy. Must have ridden through the night. Anyway, he said that since he couldn’t ask your father he wanted to ask me. He wanted my blessing for your marriage.”

 

“Our marriage?!” Sansa nearly choked on the words.

 

“Yes, apparently he thinks very highly of you.”

 

“Oh.” To say that Sansa was stunned was an understatement.

 

“Hey sis, I have to go. The kids are destroying the place. Talk to you soon, okay? And

Congratulations!”

 

"Yes. Bye." Sansa hung up, still in a bit of a daze.

 

Nausea was beginning to set in. Sandor Clegane wished to marry her? But they hardly ever spoke! Suddenly, the long walk home didn’t seem long enough.


	2. Chapter 2

Over the course of the following week, Sansa tried not to think of the news she’d gotten from Robb about Sandor, but she failed miserably. The words he’d said ran through her mind constantly. Her thoughts were a mixture of confusion and a back and forth debate with herself about whether or not she would actually accept if he did indeed propose. Several days had gone by, and Sandor had not said a word to her other than their usual pleasantries at breakfast and lunch. She didn’t bring up the subject with him, either. Perhaps he had been in an emotional state and changed his mind later on. Maybe she wouldn’t have to deal with the situation after all.

 

On Saturday morning, the community gathered for a barn raising. Sansa brought a basket full of fastnachts to share. As she helped the other women arrange the food on the long table that had been set up outside, she caught herself peeking constantly at Sandor. He was working the hardest of them all, using his height and muscle to his advantage. For a moment, Sansa had begun to admire his build, but she caught herself and turned around, face flushed red and embarrassed.

 

Sunday evening, Sansa was standing at the sink washing dishes by the light of an oil lamp and admiring the song of the birds and insects outside. She was already dressed for bed, her hair was down in a single braid and she wore a light cotton sleeping gown. She was drying a glass when she looked out the window above the sink and noticed a buggy entering the dirt drive that led up to her house. It was Sandor’s, she could tell by the copper red horse that was pulling it.

 

“What on Earth could he be coming for at this hour?” She rushed to twirl her braid into a bun and secure it to the top of her head, covering the bun with a bonnet. It was inappropriate for a man to see the hair of a woman who was not his wife, regardless of whether or not he was married. Once her hair was finished, she ran into her bedroom and threw a dress on over top of her nightgown. There wasn’t time to fix it properly, but the visit was unexpected, so it would have to do. She was still smoothing the skirt of her dress with her hands when there was a polite, but sturdy, knock at the door.  Upon opening it, she found Sandor, dressed in a navy blue suit, and holding a bouquet of yellow wildflowers.

 

“Hello Sandor. I wasn’t expecting you at this hour.”

 

He looked uncomfortable. “Sansa, I would like to ask for your hand.”

 

She hadn’t expected him to be so direct. “You wish to marry me?”

 

“Yes.” He nodded, nervously.

 

“But...do you think we are a proper match? Up until a few weeks ago, you had hardly ever spoken to me.”

 

He looked down at his feet. “I’ve grown accustomed to distancing myself from people until I know what their true character is. You have always been kind to me. And when I told you about my past, you were understanding and did not judge. I cannot imagine anyone else making a better wife for me than you.”

 

It wasn’t candlelight and roses or a grand gesture, but Sansa found his words endearing. “Oh. I see.”

 

He seemed disheartened by her response. “I can leave if you like.”

 

“No! No, please don’t. What I mean is, I will agree. To be your wife.”

 

Sandor gave her a closed mouth grin and handed her the flowers. She looked down at the bouquet and smiled, too. The night they’d had dinner together, she had casually mentioned to him that yellow was her favorite color.

 

“Then I’ll arrange things with the elders. Good evening to you.” He tipped his hat and was off.

 

Sansa nodded and shut the door. She hurried to the window where she could view him getting into his buggy and leaving.

 

As she watched him pull out of the driveway, her stomach suddenly felt as if it were full of ice. Amish betrothals were not long. The community believed that quick marriages were best, as a way of preserving purity. Chances are, they would marry within the week.

 

The following Saturday, Sandor and Sansa were wed in a simple ceremony in front of the community and Sansa’s two younger brothers. Arya and Robb were not permitted to attend because they were no longer of the faith. Sansa wore a tasteful plum sheath gown that had long sleeves and an ankle-length skirt. She carried a handful of neatly arranged daffodils, a last-minute surprise from Sandor. He wore the same navy blue suit that he had worn when he proposed to her on her front porch less than a week earlier. The Amish did not wear jewelry, so there was no exchange of rings. Once the vows had been spoken, they were declared married, and everyone went outdoors for a large picnic celebration.

 

All of the women in the community contributed toward Sandor and Sansa’s marriage feast. Several tables were placed end to end to make one large banquet table. The buffet was quite impressive. There were roasted meats, breads, pies, homemade jams and jellies, several varieties of cheeses, and gallons and gallons of lemonade.

 

There was no music, for it was not permitted in the order. Instead, everyone ate and gathered for relaxing chitchat, enjoying a break on a day that would normally be filled with hours of manual labor.

 

Sandor kept to himself, for the most part. He had never been one for meaningless shallow banter. If he spoke, it was because there was something that needed to be said.  At one point, he looked over at Sansa, surrounded by women giving her advice. His chest swelled with pride at the sight of her. She was his wife now, and he would do whatever it took to make sure she never regretted it.

 

At sundown, people began packing up all of the food. While the majority of the crowd was distracted with the cleanup, Sandor took Sansa by the hand and led her behind a large oak tree.

 

“There was another reason, you know.”

 

Sansa was confused. “Another reason for what?”

 

“Another reason why I wanted to marry you.”

 

She smiled, looking up at him. “And what reason would that be?”

 

“Six years ago, I begged your father to give me a job at his farm. I told him that it was because I needed the money, which was true. But the main reason was because I was in love with his daughter. I had seen you at the outdoor market the day before. You were selling your schnitz pies. The sunlight hit your face just right, making it glow as if you were an angel. One look at you, and I knew that no other woman would ever do.”

 

“You knew you loved me six years ago? Why did it take you so long to say something?”

 

“There were many obstacles. The loss of your parents for one, Arya and Robb for another. But also, I needed to know that you weren’t afraid of me...and I did not know that until the night you invited me over for dinner.”

 

Sansa could feel love for him blooming within her chest. “And are there any other secrets you are hiding from me, Mr. Clegane?”

 

He smiled, and brushed a wayward strand of red hair away from her face. “Just one, Mrs. Clegane. I cannot wait another moment to kiss you.”

 

Gently lifting her chin with one hand, he pressed his lips to hers, then wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in close, resting his chin on the top of her head. They had both suffered such loss, but they were facing a new beginning, and neither of them would be alone anymore.


End file.
